Tag Archives: chord

Chord

Chord: (n) a group of three or more notes sounded together, as a basis of harmony.

Mrs. Bosley never told me.

She was my piano teacher when I was a boy. I took lessons from her for two years–and she never mentioned that music is very mathematical.

For instance, making a chord. You have a root note–like a C. You go up two steps to get your third and another step-and-a-half to get your fifth. There. You’ve got a chord. And it works with any key.

Once I discovered this magic, I realized any song could be played in any key as long as the chords could be attained by using my mathematical little formula.

My theories were put to the test when the music group I put together lost our piano player because her father thought it wasn’t good for her to be hanging out with a bunch of boys. He was also pissed at us because he insisted our hair was too long. So he told us that she was no longer allowed to play piano for us.

He thought that would be the end of our little group.

But instead, I grabbed the kid brother of our tenor singer, sat down with the mathematical formulas aforementioned–and in six weeks, taught this kid how to “chord out” five songs.

You cannot imagine how surprised people were when this boy walked to the piano and started playing.

Honestly, we kind of did this on a lark–but it ended up being a transforming experience for him. He went from being human wallpaper to decorating rooms with his talent. Within five years, he was in demand from every group in Columbus, Ohio.

All because he learned his chords.

We do a disservice when we try to complicate the good things of life, and make them seem inaccessible. Music especially needs to be available for all of us.

If it is, maybe we can all live in one a-chord.

 

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Achilles

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Achilles: a hero of the Trojan War. During his infancy his mother plunged him into the Styx, making his body invulnerable except for the heel by which she held him. During the Trojan War, Achilles killed Hector but was later wounded in the heel by an arrow shot by Paris, and died.

Since I saw the movie, Troy, Achilles will always be Brad Pitt to me. Or maybe it’s that Brad Pitt will always be Achilles. Whichever floats your boat. And speaking of floating your boat … Supposedly Helen of Troy had an affair with Paris, which started a war and launched a thousand ships.

If you watch the movie, you see the portrayal of a very arrogant, self-sufficient, mean-spirited, dark, quizzical and I suppose to the average woman between the ages of fourteen and twenty-five, sexy Achilles.

He liked killing people.

That should be one of the classic turn-offs, but it seemed to be very exciting to his fellow-fighters and all the women who met him. He was rather ruthless, which the Greeks, who touted themselves to be such a scholarly bunch, still extolled as noble. He considered himself to be invincible, which lends itself to a bit of foolishness and certainly makes one obnoxious.

What did I learn about Achilles? I relearned the very valuable lesson that half of what I believe about myself is only true because it hasn’t been tested, and the other half, that has been tested, I do not believe, for some reason or another, to be sufficient to my needs.

We are all foolish when we think that because we haven’t yet met an enemy who can take us down, that we are beyond conquering. And we’re also quite silly when we downplay the TRUE virtues of our soul and talent, deeming them insignificant.

If Achilles had just been a good soldier, treated people better, and had not run into battle believing he was made of titanium, he probably could have lived to a ripe old age, had children and been deeply respected by the world around him. Instead, he let his ego drive his mission rather than using common sense and restraint.

It’s doubtful that dipping him in the River Styx actually achieved the purpose of making him supernatural. It sure did give him a lot of confidence, though–that is, until somebody shot an arrow in just the right place.

Interesting. Since we talk about Achilles, I wonder if that’s where we got the phrase, “that person’s a real heel.”

 

Ace

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Ace: (n.)1. a playing card ranked as the highest card in its suit in most card games 2. a person who excels at a particular sport or other activity 3. (in tennis and similar games) a service that an opponent is unable to return and thus wins a point.

Do you like to play blackjack? Some people call it “Twenty-One.”

I’ve never been a great card advocate, but I do enjoy an occasional game of blackjack.

It’s the reason I admire an ace. When an ace pops up in a blackjack game, you have a choice. Isn’t that great?? No other card in the deck gives you an option. You can count your ace as an eleven, or if for some reason it’s needed, you can tally it as a one. (I hope those are universal rules–that’s the way I’ve always played it.)

So as I read the definition, I realized that’s what an ace is. Once you’ve taken yourself to a place where you’ve been an eleven, you’re not afraid to perch yourself in a lower seat, as a one. If you’ve always been a one, you probably resent the hell out of being a one, and constantly wish you were an eleven.

This is why it’s impossible to build self-esteem in people without first teaching them self-awareness and giving them an opportunity for personal achievement.

I like the ace. It has been an eleven often enough–the top card in the deck–so that it doesn’t feel diminished when it needs to be a one.

That’s the way I want to live my life. I want to be an ace but I don’t want to be afraid to sometimes play the single note that’s part of a chord.

Acciaccatura

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acciaccatura: (n) a grace note performed as quickly as possible before an essential note of a melody, and falling before the beat

I play piano.

I have played it since I was a kid. There were some intervals in my life when I ceased to pound the keys because I thought it was “wussy” or girl-like. But when I realized that chicks LIKE to hear guys play the piano, I reinstated my talent.

Now, when I say I play the piano, by no means am I suggesting that I am great–but rather, have discovered a proficiency which can imitate greatness in the presence of those more forgiving.

One of the things about playing the piano–it demands both hands. If you think about it, there are not a whole lot of things we humans do with two our hands cooperating with each other, and if you’re not aware of it, your right hand and left hand are a lot like feuding brother and sister, who do not see life in the same light.

So occasionally when moving from one chord to another, a dragging finger will linger too long on a note which has absolutely nothing to do with the proposed plan. If you’re lucky, this delinquent digit will not stay long enough to create a discordant sound. But if you’re not … apparently we have a word for it.

Acciaccatura.

Now, I’m sure that some musical snobs would insist that this particular notation in the musical score is purposeful and meaningful. I will not argue with them. But in a pinch, it’s really nice when you’ve accidentally hit a note that was NOT meant to be, but have gotten off of it very quickly–to plead “acciaccatura.”

I think it would be wonderful if all of our mistakes could be spoken away in Italian.

“La-boo-boo.” What do you think of that one?

“Screwaniniuppo.” It definitely sounds better, doesn’t it?

And I, for one, am not going to rail against those who come up with clever phrasing to explain away occasional human flaws and errors. So the next time you hear me play the piano and you perceive a note which might be misplaced, please realize that I have just performed … an acciaccatura.